Blankets vs Satin Sheets
by Il Cattivo
Summary: [A teenaged Sirius is starting to have doubts about his motives when it comes to his relationship with Remus.] This story is RLSB, ergo it's a SLASHORAMA! If you no likey, you no readey as simple as that, really... Rated M for dirty language, I guess.
1. Prelude

**SUMMARY: **Sirius is starting to have doubts about his motives when it comes to his relationship with Remus...

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine - Rowling's... Don't sue! Peace!

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**PRELUDE**

"I need to talk to you, Moony."

_Uh-oh. This can't be good._

"S-sure, about what?"

"Well, you're gonna have to sit down first."

_This can definitely not be good._

"Something on your mind?"

"I've been thinking a lot lately…"

"Well, that's the first, innit? Heh..hehm."

"Please, just…this isn't really the time for jokes."

"Why, is something wrong? My mum hasn't died or something, has she?"

_I know what he's trying to tell me, but I just don't want it to be what I think it is… Not that I'd rather it was my mum dying, or anything._

"It's not _that _bad…but I'm afraid it's something pretty bad."

"What, then?"

"I think we should call this off, Moony."

…_Bugger._

"What? Why?"

"Just 'till I get my head sorted out, like."

"Why, what's wrong with your head?"

_Now I'm just being daft._

"I just… I dunno whether or not I'm really in love with you."

"Oh."

"Lately I've got the sneaking suspicion that I'm really only with you because I know my parents would hate it. Like this is just another rebellion against them."

"Oh."

"And, if that's the case, it wouldn't be fair to either of us if we kept doing this."

"Oh… Right."

"I'm sorry, it's…it's all just fucked up, Moons. I'm sorry."

_Shit. Buggering shit._

"No, no, you're absolutely right. We shouldn't be doing this in the first place."

"No, common, it's not that, I… Look, I can't – I don't really want to talk about this now."

_Great, he just wants to get away from me as soon as possible._

"_You're_ the one who wanted to talk…"

"I know, Moony, I know…But I've said what I wanted to say. Let's just leave it at that, yeah?"

"Right."

"'Till I sort my head out."

"Right."

"…I'm really sorry."

"Yeah."

**TBC!**


	2. Blankets vs Satin Sheets

**SUMMARY:** What happens the night Sirius runs away from home.

**DISCLAIMER:** All this belongs to J. K. Rowling. I own nothing. DON'T SUE!

**A/N:** Watch out for big balls of FLUFF toward the ending there ;) I apologize for any typos. I'm writing this at half four in the morning and I have no beta reader :P

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"**BLANKETS vs SATIN SHEETS"**

"Remember to always use a formal language. And I really can't stress this enough: When you eat soup, lead the spoon _away from you_. Not _toward you_ – because that's how you get those awful stains on your shirt. Remember last year? We can't have you getting soup all over your best robes this time, as well."

"_Of course not_, Mother."

"And you know…no good-mannered, well-connected, well-to-do young witch at that Christmas cotillion will have you if you've got stains all over your robes."

"God forbid."

Sirius felt something hard slap him in the back of the head.

"Do _not_ use that tone with your mother, you little bastard! Mind your manners!"

How he wished to be at home with the Potters this Christmas, like the rest of his friends were.

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Sirius lay in bed, contemplating how to get out of going to the cotillion thing. How he hated being around those snotty, too-rich-for-their-own-good-tossers. And the worst thing about it was that his mother was using this to find him a bride… Some snarky little bitch with an ego the size of her father's mansion. Someone he hated, but who his mother loved.

He could just see it now; the wedding would be bloody humongous. The wedding cake would be even bigger. And, if he was _really_ lucky, the bride's hair would be the biggest thing in the room. The reception hall would be filled with cocky arseholes with too much time on their hands, half of which are Death Eaters.

He immediately thought of his friends… How he'd never be allowed to see them anymore if he kept doing whatever his parents say. It was widely known that the Potters were a bunch of "mudblood-huggers" – a term his father frequently used about James's family. A particular episode came to mind…something that had happened just after Sirius's brother, Regulus, started attending Hogwarts:

"And what's worse," Orion Black had said, "the Potter boy is consorting with mudblood girls! I can't believe his parents haven't already resorted to physical punishment… Imagine the shameif one of _our_ sons were to go off with filthy little sluts like that!"

To which his wife answered; "Well, it's not exactly _a secret_ that the Potters are a gang of hoodlums. Fighting for muggle rights and that. Terrible business."

"Aren't you friends with the Potter boy, Sirius?"

Sirius could have killed his little brother for bringing this up again. The little shit. Time to fight fire with fire.

"Yeah, and I'm also friends with Peter Pettigrew – you know, the one from Salford."

"The _poor _one?"

"Exactly. And I'm friends with Remus Lupin, as well. He's even _poorer_. And _a mudblood_, to boot."

This had earned a gasp from his mother.

"…Sirius, is this _true_?"

"Oh yeah, they're all in _Gryffindor_ with me."

He'd been sent straight to his chambers, without supper. Apparently, his mother and father despised being reminded in any way that their son had disgraced the family name by being put in Gryffindor.

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"I don't want this," Sirius whispered into the darkness of his room – his huge, expensively furnished room that could easily have housed a dozen homeless paupers… He never could stand that bloody room.

The cotillion was set to the following night. And the only reason he was nervous was that he _knew_ he'd hate it. He wasn't nervous because he was afraid that the girls wouldn't like him, or that their parents would be disappointed. After all, he'd been there once before, last year. And the girls had _adored_ him then – probably because they thought rebellious boys were sexy, or for some other idiotic reason. So he wasn't exactly worried out of his mind about that particular part. The parents had hated him, though… But then, Sirius Black was never one to care about what these people thought, be it preppy girls or their tight-arsed mothers and fathers. He just couldn't care less.

Yet again, he thought about how it would be if he kept going to all these parties, and eventually ended up getting married to an awful girl he didn't even like. He'd be cooped up in a mansion with _her_ all day, listening to her nag at him and yell at some poor servants, and he wouldn't be able to spend time with his mates or get that motorcycle he'd always wanted…

He wouldn't ever be able to smell Remus's hair again…

Sirius immediately thought of what he'd said to his friend, and regretted it with all his heart. How could he have been so bloody _daft_? Wasn't it obvious that the reason he wanted that boy in the first place _wasn't_ because he was everything the Blacks hated? In fact, it was quite the opposite; he loved Remus simply for _being Remus_…and he hated his family because they'd hate _him_. And anyone who hates Remus Lupin should be charged with treason to the crown and shot at dawn, Sirius thought.

That his relationship with the boy might be merely a rebellion against his parents…it was definitely a possibility. But the truth was, as he was lying there in his queen-size, soft, satin clad bed, all he could think about was how he could be at James's house right now, sharing a tiny bed in the guest room with Remus; how they'd struggle to find a position that was just right, because the blankets were too damn small to warm both their feet and their chests; how Remus would snuggle up to him to get as much warmth as possible; how Sirius would smell his friend's hair, finding that it smelled like chocolate and vanilla; how Remus would mutter the sweetest things in his sleep…

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It was just after midnight, and three sixteen year old boys were sitting in a living room sofa, drinking butterbeer and talking about Lily Evans… Well, it mainly was the boy named James who was doing most of the talking. All of a sudden, the door bell rang, interrupting James's seemingly never-ending speech about how he was going to win the said girl over with his "unworldly charms".

"Who can it be at this time of night," he muttered, irritated that he'd have to put off talking about Lily Evans for five minutes.

When he opened the front door, he found a soaking wet Sirius Black.

"Sirius! My God, what are you doing here? Get inside, quickly, we don't want you to catch a cold..!"

James started fussing over him at once, getting him hot chocolate and towels to dry himself off – whereas Sirius himself merely stared one of the boys that had joined them in the hall. Remus was completely still, looking just as fazed by the whole ordeal as Sirius was. It left the latter wondering whether his friend was still mad about the break-up.

When James emerged from the kitchen with a mug of hot chocolate and a towel, Sirius was forced to tell why he was suddenly standing there in James's house.

"I ran away from home, James… I just took my broom and left."

"Why? No, wait, that's a really dumb question. Here, come through to the living room, yeah?"

James pushed Sirius down on the sofa and made him go on as he was drying his hair.

"They were trying to have me go to that bloody cotillion again, you know?"

"Yeesh."

"Yeah… Anyway, I'm not bloody well going back there again, that's for sure."

"Well, what about all your stuff?"

"Bugger that… I've got my broom and my friends, that's all I need."

Sirius was glad to find that he'd managed to get the tiniest laugh out of Remus by saying this.

"Spoken like a true Black!"

"Haha, yeah exactly…Hey James, Pete – do you mind if I have a little chat with Remus on my own?"

James winked knowingly at Sirius as he left, whereas Peter – oblivious as he was to the fact that two of his friends were having a romantic relationship – had to be dragged out of there by James, saying "What, why are we leaving? Why does he want to talk to Moony on his own, Prongs?" all the while.

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"I've been a right git, Moony," Sirius said once James had gotten Peter out of the room. He sat down on the sofa, right next to Remus, who pulled away from the arm that was sliding up behind his back. Disappointed, Sirius decided that the best way to woo a person like Remus was to charm him with rhetoric.

"I was so wrong about the whole 'act of rebellion' thing, Remus."

"Were you."

"Yes, I was! I… I thought the only reason I liked you was because you're everything that my family hates. But then I thought of all the great things that I love you so much for – like how you're so bloody studious… Now, I _know_ I pick on you a lot for that, but I actually admire you. You're so brainy…to me, that's _sexy_."

Much to Sirius's delight, he found that Remus gave him a tiny, humble smile. Good, very good…

"You're such a liar, Pads. But…you were saying?"

"Well, you know, I like the way you're always so nice to everyone…I wish I would be like that sometimes. But I wouldn't be nice to Snivellus no matter what, though."

"..Go on."

"I like your hair and eyes…and your skin…and your lips…and your _incredibly hot body_!"

"Haha, I can't believe I fell for such a shallow bloke..!"

"And then there are the little things… I like the way you smell like chocolate, for example."

"What? I smell like _chocolate_?"

"That shouldn't really come as such a surprise, seeing as you practically _bathe_ in the stuff…"

"Oh piss off, I do _not_…"

"You _do too_! I can't believe you don't weigh five hundred pounds by now! …Anyway, I guess what I'm trying to say is; all these things have nothing to do with what my parents hate. They don't hate people who have hot bodies or people who like chocolate or people who do well in school. So that _can't_ be it!"

All of a sudden, Remus's face adopted a look of sincere uncertainty.

"…Well, are you _sure_ about that? What if you start wondering about it again one day, and I'll wind up getting hurt a second time?"

"Look, all I know right now is that I love you, all right?"

"That's just not enough, Sirius…"

"What, do you want me to _promise_?"

"Sirius, I – "

"- Cause I'll promise, if that's what you want?" Sirius said, getting up from the sofa. He laid a hand on his chest.

"I solemnly swear, on the Gryffindor emblem, on the Marauders Map, and on Dumbledore's knickers that I'll never, ever, ever, ever, EVER hurt you again, Remus. You can trust me on that."

"Can I?"

"Yes."

"Can I also trust you to sit back down and stop acting like a crazy person?"

"No," Sirius announced sternly, taking hold of Remus's wrist. "Because right now, we're going to the guest room to lie on a tiny bed. And we're going to be cold. And we're going to snuggle. And you're going to smell like chocolate and vanilla."

"What are you talking about," Remus chuckled.

"Come on," Sirius said, winking at him. "I'll show you."

**END!**


End file.
